"Oh, I have no objections to offer," interrupted Gerald hurriedly. "But Bellaria was afraid of that coral hand, which symbolized--now then, Mrs. Crosbie, what did it symbolize?"
"I don't know," she faltered, and her eyes dropped; after a pause she looked up. "I'll tell you all I know," she added, passing her lace handkerchief across her lips. "But keep what I say to yourself."
"Go on. I shall say nothing to the world without your permission."
Mrs. Crosbie reflected. "I was in difficulties over money when we last met," she said rapidly. "There was an Italian moneylender--a Jew in the city--who held a bill of mine, and treated me badly. I did not know what to do. When I told Signor Venosta, in despair, since he was always a good friend of mine, he asked me the name of the Jew, and all particulars."
"What is the name of the Jew?" asked Gerald quickly.
"That has nothing to do with the story. There is no need for you to know. This moneylender was an Italian Jew, and came from Naples. When Signor Venosta heard my tale he detached that coral hand from his watch chain, on the very day you found us together, and gave it to me, saying, that if I showed it to the Jew everything would go well. I put it for safety in my cigarette-case, which you carried off. So small an object could easily be lost, as you may guess. When I found that my case was missing I sent mother at once to you, thinking--and rightly--that you had taken it. She brought it back."
"Well, go on. Did you show it to the Jew?"
"Yes. He was desperately afraid, and agreed to whatever terms I chose to make; so you may guess, I insisted on having favorable ones. That is all, Gerald."
"Why was the Jew afraid?"
"I know no more than I know why Bellaria was afraid."